


Put it in Perspective

by kerfuffling



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Inspired by a Movie, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-08
Updated: 2013-04-08
Packaged: 2017-12-07 22:42:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/753910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kerfuffling/pseuds/kerfuffling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jensen had hoped for an adventure in the town he'd just moved to, spending a day shrunk in his neighbor's house wasn't exactly what he had in mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Put it in Perspective

From somewhere below, Jared can hear the sounds of utter chaos; the smoke alarm is beeping, something is clanging, and Sadie won’t stop howling. Jared lifts his head blearily from his pillow for a split second before groaning loudly and diving beneath the covers to try and muffle some of the noise. It sounds like his dad’s pancake maker has gone and burnt breakfast for the millionth time, and the thought of cornflakes _again_ makes Jared never want to get up. Plus it’s summer vacation, and he thinks he saw his clock displaying an ungodly hour just a second ago.

His mother, evil she-demon that she is, chooses right at that moment to pound heavily on his door, startling Jared so much that he tumbles out of bed with a thud. 

“Jared, get up!” she thunders, her voice tight with annoyance, which is practically a gift-wrapped invitation to stay in bed all morning.

“Okay, okay,” he mumbles, pulling himself back onto his bed with no minimal effort. Within seconds, he’s asleep again; noise or no noise, Jared does not let anything keep him awake when he doesn’t want to be. Excluding his mother, who does not take shit from anyone, let alone her children, and ten minutes of uninterrupted sleep later, she charges into his room, yanks on his window shades so they’ll _thwip_ up, and turns his light on, all the while ignoring his grunts of protest.

“When I said up, I meant now,” she says sternly. “Don’t make me come in here again.” Jared blinks pathetically against the light and lobs his pillow somewhere in the vicinity of the door, which thankfully goes unnoticed. He contemplates ignoring her, but she’s in a _mood_ and the last time he tried barricading his door shut to get another hour of shut-eye, she just put his father’s invented alarm clock from _hell_ outside of his room until he couldn’t stand it any longer. She still has about fifty of those prototypes hidden away for special occasions.

It takes him five more minutes until he feels human enough to stumble downstairs. Sure enough, the kitchen is filled with the fetid smell of burnt plastic, and his father is frantically waving a towel underneath the smoke detector so it will stop beeping.

“When are we gonna give up on this pancake thing, dad?” Jared asks grumpily, noticing that the cereal box is out on the table, along with the milk. His kid sister’s already eating her breakfast, studying some sort of book at the same time. Jared wrinkles his nose--he’s tried time and time again to remind her that it’s summer, but she never listens to him.

“Just a little glitch,” his father huffs as soon as the detector shuts off, leaning heavily against the wall. “Nothing a little tinkering won’t fix.”

“That’s what you said last week,” Jared complains, plopping heavily into a chair. 

“Dad’s scientific process is sound,” Megan chirps. “All the greatest inventions took a long time to perfect.”

“If you try to tell me about the lightbulb one more freakin’ time,” Jared says, narrowing his eyes.

“That’s enough,” his mother scolds, hopping into the room as she tries to pull on her heel. “Jared, you know not to tease your sister.”

“Yes, ma,” Jared says, rolling his eyes as Megan sticks her tongue out at him.

“Gerald,” his mother says, rushing to grab her phone and her keys from the counter, “my taxi’s here. You sure you’ve got everything under control?”

“I always do,” his father says, his usual response to the question. 

His mother just sighs and drops a kiss on Megan’s forehead and then on Jared’s. “Behave,” she says. “No more ice cream fights inside. Listen to your father and don’t get in trouble. I’ll be back on Monday.”

“Calm down,” his father placates, placing a hand on her shoulder and kissing her cheek. “I’ve got everything under control.”

“You always say that,” Jared’s ma says, heaving another sigh. “And then I come home to find my table scorched or my hydrangeas blown up--”

“I promise,” his father laughs. “No fiascos this time.”

Jared makes a little disbelieving sound that no one hears. Sure. No fiascos. What a freakin’ lie.

**

Next door, Jensen is having an equally bad summer morning as he tries in vain to come up with anything that will convince his parents that their RV vacation is the worst idea they’ve had since they decided to move to this stupid little town. He’s hiding in his room, away from his father’s queries about how his tryouts for the football team went (they sucked, glad you asked). His chair is propped against the doorknob as a precaution, even though he’s pretty sure his parents are busy packing, and he’s thinking about going back to sleep except the racket next door could practically wake the dead. He considers throwing a baseball at their house in protest, but he’d rather not end up grounded for the rest of the summer, thanks.

Instead, he hurls himself onto his bed and flicks on his laptop. Mac is outside, playing with Barbies or something, and he watches her idly as his computer boots up. It doesn’t take long for him to lose himself in status updates and sports news, and when he looks up next to stretch, Mac isn’t alone anymore. The little geeky neighbor-kid, Megan or Marcie or something, is showing her what she's holding, blinking owlishly through her coke-bottle glasses and smiling shyly.

Jensen groans under his breath, because he knows his kid sister, and even though there isn’t much he wouldn’t do for her, it’s pretty much fact that she can be a little bitch if she wants to be. Right now, her lip is curling in a way that spells danger, and sure enough, Jensen sees her take the--is that a rock?--from Megan’s (Maribeth’s?) hand only to fling it into the fence with a laugh.

Jensen winces as he sees his sister’s smirk widen when the rock cracks in two. Megan looks devastated, even behind her huge glasses, as she rushes over and cradles her broken toy like it’s an injured puppy. Jensen doesn’t have to see her to know she’s crying as she runs back to her own house.

For a second, Jensen thinks about ignoring what just happened--they’re new to the neighborhood, his sister’s still incredibly mad that they had to leave their old life behind--but he really feels like too much of an asshole, so, risking being discovered by his parents, he unblocks his door and thunders down the stairs.

Mac is sitting just as contentedly as she was before the neighbor-girl came over, brushing her Barbie’s hair with a tiny comb. She doesn’t even look up when Jensen stalks through the grass to get to her.

“What do you want?” she asks, her voice flat.

“Jesus, Mac, could you have been more of a jerk just then?” he snaps, grabbing her arm to haul her to her feet roughly. She lets out a little shriek of protest and digs her nails into his skin hard enough to make him let go.

“Ow, Jensen,” she whines, glaring at him. “What was that for?”

“Don’t give me that bull--”

“I’ll tell mama you were swearing again!” she threatens, eyes wide.

“--crap,” he says, quickly changing course. “I saw what you did to that neighbor’s toy.”

Mac’s lower lip immediately begins to wobble. “It was a stupid rock, not a toy!” Mac says. “And she started it. She told me my Barbie was a sexist symbol of what feminism has been trying for decades to eliminate.” She repeats the words with quote-y fingers, stumbling a little, which indicates that she’s rehearsing them from memory.

“Doesn’t mean you have to break it in half. She looked really upset, you little brat. This is why you don’t have any friends here!”

Mac’s eyes immediately fill with tears. “Don’t say that. That’s not nice. I just wanna go home.”

“You are home now,” Jensen says harshly. “This _is_ home. And you gotta apologize to her right now.”

“I don’t wanna,” she says, and then she’s off like a shot, darting around the house. She knows that if she goes inside, Jensen will just tell their mama, and she’ll be in deep shit then, so she skirts around their packing efforts. Unfortunately for her, Jensen used to play this game with Josh, so he knows all of the tricks, and it isn’t long before she’s struggling in his grasp.

“You go apologize, and I won’t tell mom,” he wheedles. “Promise. But I’m not getting a bad reputation around here because you can’t play nice. Besides, Dad works for this guy’s company, remember? He can’t lose another job.”

“He won’t get fired because I broke his kid’s stupid toy,” Mac says petulantly, but she stops kicking at his shins.

“You never know,” Jensen says darkly, even though he agrees with her. It’s just, he’s noticed the kid next door, the one who looks to be his age, and he really doesn’t want to have a bad first impression because his sister’s a terror. Speaking of which, his cheeks heat a little bit when he realizes that he’ll probably come face-to-face with his neighbor--Jared, he knows, definitely Jared--if he goes through with making Mac apologize.

Sure enough, when they ring the doorbell, it’s Jared who answers, running a hand through his messy hair and blinking in this totally confused way.

“Ye-es?” he asks slowly, looking at Jensen, then at Mac, then at Jensen again. 

“My little sister has an apology to make,” Jensen says. “To yours.”

Jared quirks an eyebrow, looking all of a sudden more alert. “Did something happen? She tore through here like ten minutes ago, but the little geek never tells me anything.”

“Kinda,” Jensen says with a half-shrug. 

“She’s upstairs, I think,” Jared says, motioning behind him. “In the attic, probably. That’s where she goes when she’s having a temper tantrum.”

Jensen has to give Mac a push before she half-heartedly starts up the steps, leaving Jensen alone in the foyer. “Sorry ‘bout this,” Jensen says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Girls can be little bitches.” Immediately, Jensen wishes he could take the words back, but Jared smiles wide and easy.

“Tell me about it,” he says, stepping backwards so Jensen can come fully inside to wait for his sister. “Megan’s made about half of her class cry.”

“C’mon,” Jensen scoffs. “No way your sister made _anyone_ cry. She looks like a leaf could knock her flat.”

Jared’s laugh is loud and big, and it instinctively makes Jensen smile. “Well, yeah,” he concedes, “but she’s convinced she’s the smartest person in the universe, and God help you if you want to argue with her.”

“Yeah, I know what that’s like,” Jensen agrees, huffing a little amused noise. “But, seriously, Mac’s usually not this bad. She’s just pissed because we picked up and moved.”

“I’d say I know how that feels but I’ve lived in this house my entire life,” Jared says, looking sympathetic. “Still, it’s gotta suck being the new kid.”

“Uh, definitely,” Jensen agrees. “The only people I’ve met all month are twice my age.”

“Please tell me you haven’t spoken with Mr. Beaver down the road?” Jared groans. “That guy’s crazy.”

Jensen smiles even wider--he has met Mr. Beaver, and he has stories of his own--which makes this whole exchange a whole lot less awkward and more friendly than he ever could have hoped.

He gets so engrossed in the ensuing conversation that he forgets why he came over in the first place.

That? That was his first mistake.

**

Megan knows that she’s not supposed to be in the attic with her father’s unstable machines, but it’s the only place she really feels herself, surrounded by wires and half-finished inventions. She likes to run her hands over what her dad’s created and imagine inventions of her own, turning hypotheses over in her head. It’s really the only thing that ever calms her down.

Her geode, which had been really pretty and a present from her father, was now irreparably smashed by the girl next door. This will teach her mother not to tell her to be friendly to their new neighbors--she’d known before she’d tried it that it was an awful social experiment. The broken halves of her geode now lie on her dad’s current invention, his shrink ray, the one that he’s been working on for almost three years, and she wanders around the attic for a while, seeing if her dad has started work on anything new. When she first came up, she’d allowed herself five minutes of moping in the corner, covering her ears and crying about her broken geode, before she made herself stop.

In the background, the shrink ray’s humming, still on, so she knows her dad was working on it before he rushed to the office, putting Jared in charge and for a second she wonders if it’s getting any better. It had been making a lot of noise a couple of minutes ago but she’d been too upset to care.

Then something catches her eye, and she slips from her chair to investigate, because her dad’s had a ratty old “thinking” couch in the attic for as long as she can remember and it’s not where it used to be. She does a slow circuit trying to see if he’s crammed it into a corner to make more room, but she still can’t find it.

When she goes over to where it used to be, something crunches under her foot. Immediately she thinks she stepped on a bug, but she can’t see anything when she moves backwards a step or so, so she gets on her knees to investigate. She doesn’t even hear the sigh of someone as they enter the room.

“My brother made me come here to say I’m sorry,” the intruder says, and Megan doesn’t even look up.

The newcomer huffs, tapping her foot impatiently. “I said I was sorry! Didn’t you hear me? What are you doing, anyways?”

“Trying to figure out why my dad’s couch is the size of an insect,” Megan murmurs, brushing a tiny cushion with her fingertip. She knows now that it’s Mackenzie, the neighor who broke her geode in the first place. It doesn’t seem like such a big deal anymore.

“What?” Mackenzie asks, kneeling on the ground besides her. “Where did you get that tiny couch?”

“My dad’s invention shrunk it,” Megan says simply, wondrously, and then with a heavy hum, something warm hits her, making her body tingle and stretch, the oddest sensation. Next to her, Mackenzie lets out a short surprised shriek, and when Megan opens her eyes again, feeling normal, she realizes that the couch is no longer small.

In fact, it’s just the right size, even if it is broken in half.

**

Jared has been a brother long enough to know that when someone’s screaming, nothing is okay, no matter what. He’s in the middle of telling Jensen about his school, trying to ignore the pleasant fluttering of his heart, when he hears it, and he groans before he can help himself.

“Great,” he hears Jensen mutter behind him, and they don’t even discuss it--they take the stairs two at a time. Jared is not taking the heat for his sister getting in a slap-fight, so he leads Jensen up to the attic for back-up should the situation call for it. He doesn’t know Jensen’s sister at all, and Jensen only a little bit better, so he’s not sure what to expect when he busts through the door.

He certainly isn’t ready to find nobody in the room--no fights, no overturned furniture, nothing. Come to think about it, where _is_ the furniture?

Jensen stops short behind him and peers over his shoulder. “I thought they were up here?” he says. “Isn’t that what you said?”

“I dunno,” Jared says, perplexed. “She spends more time in this attic than she does in her own room. I just assumed.”

He turns to look at Jensen, and the only warning he gets before things go awfully wrong is this look of surprise on Jensen’s face, wide-eyed and incredulous. And then something’s happening to his body--not painful, but not comfortable, and his skin feels too big for a quick second before things right themselves. When he gets his senses back, he thinks he must have blacked out and hit his head or something, because what he’s seeing doesn’t make sense.

“Fascinating,” Megan says, coming up to look at him. “The displacement of our size did nothing to our perspective or relative height.”

“What the fuck?” he hears, and he almost thinks he said it, because it’s exactly what he’s been thinking since Megan appeared out of nowhere.

“We’re shrunk!” someone shrieks, and Jared remembers that Megan wasn’t alone up here and that she hadn’t been the one to yell and cause him and Jensen to come up to find out what happened in the first place.

“That’s impossible,” Jensen scoffs, and then he looks at Jared for support. “Right?”

Jared can’t do anything but gape like a fish, because Mackenzie is _right_. He can see the looming height of the door, the knob miles away, and the wood grain of the floor is so deep, he’s standing in a groove as wide as his forearm.

“No, the technical definition is that it’s improbable,” Megan pipes up. “Not impossible, because we’ve obviously been shrunk. To about one one-hundredth of our original size, if my estimate is correct.”

“Listen to what you’re saying,” Mackenzie says, almost hysterically. “We’re tiny! No one’s ever going to find us!”

Megan purses her lips in thought and Jensen looks pale. “How did this happen?” he asks faintly, looking to Jared then to Megan as though they’re behind the whole mess.

“My dad,” Jared says. “He’s been working on a shrink ray.”

“Your dad,” Jensen repeats slowly, “has been working on a _shrink ray_?”

“It doesn’t work!” Jared defends hotly.

“Obviously it does!” Mackenzie interjects. “We’re as big as ants! Maybe even smaller!”

“His inventions never work though,” Jared says, his heart racing.

“That’s not true,” Megan says thoughtfully. “He did get quite a lot of money for his runaway alarm clock.”

“This is not an alarm clock!” Jensen says in this panicked voice that makes Jared’s heart start racing. 

Megan continues as though she didn’t hear him in the first place. “My geode must have concentrated the laser in a way that made the energy displacement strong enough to start shrinking things. I can’t believe dad didn’t think of this before.”

“The real question, Meggie,” Jared says slowly, feeling more nauseous by the second, “is how he’s going to find us.”

Megan’s eyes go wide behind her glasses. “I hadn’t thought of that,” she admits.

**

Ten minutes later, they’re no closer to a contingency plan than they were before, considering that Jensen and Mackenzie want to be proactive about their situation, while Megan maintains that their best bet is to stay right where they are.

“What if your dad doesn’t notice?” Mackenzie demands. “We’ll starve to death. Or someone will step on us!”

“He’s had this couch longer than I’ve been alive,” Megan says cooly. “There’s no way he’ll miss that it’s suddenly gone from the attic. I hope he doesn’t yell at me too much when he realizes I stepped on it and broke it.”

“Where is your dad anyways?” Jensen demands, whirling on Jared. Now that they’ve found themselves in a problematic situation that’s entirely Jared’s family’s fault, he’s become a lot less easy to talk to.

“Um, the office,” Jared offers weakly. He’s obviously on Megan’s side, but he’s been quiet as the three of them argued. “He wasn’t supposed to go but he got an urgent phone call.”

“When is he coming back?” Mackenzie demands, pushing herself in front of Jensen.

“I dunno,” Jared says automatically. “Sometimes he stays there all night.”

“So we could stuck like this for hours,” Jensen says dully. “Great.”

Jared is about to interject, offer something upbeat or reassuring, even though it would be complete crap, when they hear something scuttle, loud and ominous.

“What was that?” Mackenzie asks, her voice an octave higher.

“According to the sound of its movements,” Megan starts, but Jared cuts her off with his hand.

“Don’t even finish that sentence, he warns, and then something black and huge skulks out of the corner.

“Holy fucking fuck,” Jensen says brokenly, as a giant rat tips its head and looks at them all.

“I guess Mom was right,” Megan says. “The attic does have rodents.”

“Will it eat us?” Mackenzie demands shakily. “Are we gonna die?”

“No one’s gonna die,” Jared says, but considering he feels like he just entered a fucked up alternate reality of Jurassic Park, it’s definitely a lie.

“Actually,” Megan says, “rats are omnivorous scavengers. It’s logical to think that it will want to consume us.”

The rat skitters forward, it’s whiskers twitching, and it’s fucking creepy, with its yellow teeth and deadened eyes. Jared thinks he’s about to get sick, and Mackenzie lets out a scream and starts to run.

It’s a useless endeavor, because the rat is obviously much bigger, and it lets out a huge squeak and starts to chase her. 

“Everyone move!” Jared bellows, and they shoot off in opposite directions. He’s hoping that it will confuse the rat, but as he looks over his shoulder, he sees that it has a one track mind and is still following Jensen’s sister with intent. Jensen has changed course to try and get to her, and for a second, Jared’s sure someone is going to die, eaten by a rat in his attic.

And then Sadie bounds through the open attic door with a humongous bark. Jared doesn’t know if she heard the yelling or smelled the rat, but she immediately slides after it. The rat changes direction on a dime, avid to avoid the dog’s teeth.

Jared’s scared that Sadie will be bitten, but the rat doesn’t stay to fight, just scurries back to where it came from. Jared’s breathing a little heavy, both from adrenaline and his sprint for safety, but they haven’t scattered too far. He makes a move to get towards Megan, and Jensen’s pulling Mackenzie with him.

When they’re close enough to talk again, Mackenzie immediately pipes up. “I’m not staying here to be eaten by a rat,” she says. “We need to get out of here.”

Jared wholeheartedly agrees with her, but Megan, ever the voice of reason, isn’t all too optimistic. “The stairs are too big for us at our current height,” she points out. “We’d die from the impact if we tried to climb down.”

“Why don’t we just use the dog?” Jensen says, making Jared feel immediately useless. “We can grab onto her fur and let her take us back downstairs.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Megan muses. “In theory.”

“And Sadie hates it up here,” Jared says. “She’s not really allowed anyways.”

“So let’s get her to come over before she decides to leave,” Jensen says, which is a valid observation, because Sadie’s already padding towards the door.

Jared’s always been Sadie’s favorite, mostly because he slips her food when his parents aren’t looking, so even though he must be monumentally confusing her, she pauses when he calls her name at the top of his lungs in the wheedling tone he uses when he wants her to come to him.

She’s snuffling like she always does when she doesn’t know what Jared wants her to do, but she comes close enough that Jared can brush the fur of her paw. She’s obviously trying to find out where he’s hiding, and he tells her to stay even though he thinks he’s just confusing her further.

“Everyone grab on,” he says, taking lead for the first time, and Megan rolls her eyes at him. 

“I’m not sure, Jared. The chances of this plan working--” she starts, pouting a little.

“I don’t want to hear it, Meggie. It’s either grab hold of her paws or stay up here with the hungry rat. It’s your choice.” He’s bluffing--there’s no way he’ll leave her alone in the attic, but she steps forward at the same moment Sadie takes a step back.

“We’ve gotta do it now, or she’s gonna leave,” Jensen says, pulling Mackenzie behind him to grab the fur of Sadie’s paw. Jared pushes Megan to where Mackenzie is, making sure she has a good grip before he takes hold himself. They’re thankfully not heavy enough to pull Sadie’s hair out by hanging on it, and she doesn’t seem to notice, doesn’t even do a full body shake before she starts trotting out of the attic and down the stairs.

It’s a bumpy ride, that’s for sure, and damn hard to keep his grip. Jared has locked his knees as best he could around the bones in Sadie’s foot as he keeps an eye on his sister. Her and Mackenzie are faring slightly better, resting on Sadie’s toes while he and Jensen are anchored to the back of her ankle. They get to the second floor landing and then to the first, and that’s when Jared thinks they’re going to be okay.

Of course that’s when everything goes wrong.

Sadie must smell something or sense someone coming, because instead of maintaining the slow trot she’s been using for the past couple of minutes, she stops, sniffs the air, and then takes off like a bullet.

“Sadie--bad--dog!” Jared yells, but she doesn’t listen to him, and when she careens around the corner of their living room, it’s too much effort to hold on any longer. Jared feels his hands slip and then he’s falling into the carpet with a loud grunted exhale.

“Sadie, come back!” he calls, too panicked for his own liking, but she’s gone, off to the other side of the house.

“Ow,” someone says, and Jared whips around to see Jensen, just barely taller than the carpet fibers, rubbing the crown of his head.

“Are you okay?” Jared asks awkwardly.

“Fine,” Jensen replies tersely, and then asks, “Mackenzie?”

Something in Jared’s stomach drops to the tips of his toes when he realizes that he doesn’t see his sister anywhere.

“Meggie?” he calls, all too aware of the look that overtakes Jensen’s face. “Meggie, are you okay?”

No answer.

Jensen starts yelling then, too, and for a few minutes, that’s all they do until they’re out of breath from the screaming.

“Great,” Jensen says. “Just great. How am I going to explain this to my mom? If we even survive to get big enough to talk to our parents again, that is.”

“My dad will figure out what happened,” Jared says, as confidently as he can given the situation. “He’ll be able to fix this.”

“He’s the one who got us here in the first place,” Jensen fumes.

“Don’t,” Jared says sharply, because honestly, it’s not his father’s fault. Sure, he built the thing, but Meggie’s not _really_ allowed in the attic, and Jared should never have let Mackenzie go up there to find her in the first place. “Don’t blame my dad. It was a freak accident.”

“More freak than accident,” Jared hears Jensen mutter, and anger sweeps through his belly, hot and overpowering.

“Don’t talk about my family like that,” he snarls, taking three sharp strides until he’s practically in Jensen’s face. He’s heard people call his family names all his life, and it’s never not made him feel like shit.

Jensen scoffs, but he doesn’t say anything further, just looks away from Jared before taking one giant step back. He’s quiet for a moment, and so is Jared, and the tension is thick in the air. 

After what seems like hours of being on edge, Jared finally reins in his temper enough to grit out, “We should find Megan and Mackenzie, don’t you think? Or at least try instead of arguing all day.”

Jensen’s scowl is practically murderous. “That’s a great idea,” he says sarcastically. “Where should we look first? Seeing as it will probably take us all day to get to the end of the room.”

It takes all of Jared’s willpower not to bite out an angry comment. “Sadie usually goes to the back porch when she runs off like that. To look outside at whatever startled her.”

“Thank God! You’re a dog whisperer.”

“It’s a better idea than you have,” Jared snarls. “And Meggie’s smart. She’ll stay put as long as it’s safe.”

“Well then lead the way, genius,” Jensen sneers.

There is absolutely no way Jared can answer that without hauling off and punching Jensen in the face, so he turns stiffly and begins to walk, resisting the urge to make sure that Jensen’s following him. If he wants to stay behind and be lost, that’s his own prerogative.

Jared soon finds out that walking on carpet when you’re an inch tall is a lot harder than expected. He keeps getting his foot caught, stumbling to his knees a couple of times, and it’s strenuous work navigating the little divots in the floor. He’s yearning for the hardwood of the kitchen, which they’ll have to cross to get to the back porch, but no matter how far they go, they never seem to be getting any closer.

They’ve been walking two hours (and really, _two hours_? Where on earth is Jared’s dad?) when Jensen breaks the silence with a heavy sigh.

“I’m sorry, okay?” he offers, more hostile than Jared would like but still a clear apology. “It’s just, I never expected to be shrunk today and on a search and rescue for my sister.”

Jared pauses, taking a deep breath. He doesn’t look at Jensen as he responds, “I thought we could be friends when we met this morning. Apparently I’m an awful judge of character.”

“Dude, come on,” Jensen complains, and Jared hears him struggle through the carpet until they’re standing side by side. “I’m a good guy--I promise. I just don’t deal well under stress, never have. I’m sorry for being a douchebag.”

He sounds more sincere now and less of a jerk, so Jared rolls his apology over in his head before shrugging. “Fine, okay,” he says, finally slanting his eyes to the right so Jensen’s in his line of sight. 

“We good now?” Jensen asks, almost hopefully.

Jared smiles, just a little. “I guess. Now stop being such a girl. We have a lot of walking to do.”

**

Jared expects his dad to be home any minute, but there’s no sign of him as the sunlight fades. The phone rings several times, but they’re not close enough to hear the tinny recording of the answering machine upstairs, so Jared has no idea what’s going on or if either of his parents are going to return at all this weekend. He never thought he’d begrudge his dad for staying at work overnight and leaving him alone to do whatever he wanted, but that’s exactly where he’s at right now.

Jared’s feet ache with the rub of the carpet and the walking they’ve been doing. They’re about ten feet from the kitchen floor, which seems to be about fifteen miles to him at this second, and the only light on in the entire house isn’t filtering into the family room at all.

He and Jensen haven’t really been talking since their half-hearted truce, and the silence is grating on Jared, making things worse. He doesn’t want to feel alone in this, so he takes a deep breath, and tries to ignore the way he feels like he’s about to make things a whole lot more awkward. 

“Maybe we should keep going till we reach the kitchen and then stop,” Jared offers, his voice loud, even as the house creaks around them.

“What if Mac and Megan are in trouble?” Jensen demands. “Are we just gonna sit here all night?”

“If something is wrong, how are we gonna help them if we’re exhausted?” Jared asks, not looking at Jensen as he plows forward. “I don’t know about you, but just thinking about walking any further makes me want to vomit.”

Jensen is quiet, and when he responds, it’s less accusatory than what Jared was expecting. “She’s my little sister. I can’t stop thinking her and that rat and how close she was to dying.”

Jared’s stomach twists unpleasantly, and he stops suddenly so he can turn and have this conversation face-to-face. “The rat’s not coming downstairs, Jensen. She’ll be fine.”

“This is Texas,” Jensen says. “There are centipedes and spiders and who knows what else, and they all can get into the house.”

Jared bites his lower lip and tentatively places a hand on Jensen’s shoulder, “I know. But we’re gonna go crazy if we keep thinking about them in trouble. Megan’s smart, and Mackenzie’ll be fine. We just gotta keep telling ourselves that.”

Jensen laughs, but it’s not a happy sound. “You must be better at distracting yourself than I am.”

Jared shrugs, struggles over a particularly uneven patch of carpet, and responds, “Maybe.” They lapse into silence again, but Jared can see the furrow of Jensen’s eyebrows, and things feel somehow tenser than they did before.

“What does your mother do for a living?” he blurts, cringing a little as it hangs in the air.

“Um, she works part-time in a flower shop. Why?” Jensen says slowly.

“I thought you wanted a distraction?” Jared says hesitantly. “I thought we could talk, I guess? Stop thinking about Meggie and Mackenzie and how much trouble they could be in and just, you know, concentrate on ourselves? So we don’t go crazy.”

Jensen’s startled laughter is completely opposite from what came out of his mouth a couple of minutes before. “So you think this is the way to stop worrying? Twenty questions? Really?”

Jared shoves his hands in his pockets and hunches his shoulders, nearly tripping as he does so. “Right. Stupid idea. Sorry.”

Quiet settles again, and when Jensen speaks again, it comes as a surprise. “What does your mom do?” He still sounds like he’s not convinced, but it’s more than Jared was hoping for. 

“She’s a teacher,” Jared answers, and he has to duck his head to hide his smile.

**

By the time they reach the end of the family room, night has fully set, and Jared can only catch glimpses of Jensen’s face by the glow of a far-off street light through the window. 

They’ve settled down into a worn patch of carpet just by the separation of the kitchen and the family room, and their talking has tapered off as they try to get comfortable enough to sleep. Jared’s been lying there for twenty minutes, and his mind is going a million miles a minute about Meggie and being shrunk and if they’re going to stay like this until they die. Plus, he’s freakin’ _hungry_ and they haven’t been able to find any edible crumbs all day.

He can hear Jensen shifting next to him, rolling over and over, and curling up into himself from the cold of the air conditioning, and without warning, Jared picks up the thread of their prior conversation.

“Why did you move here?” he asks, his voice whisper-quiet as he turns over so he can look at Jensen’s back. The line of Jensen’s shoulders tense, and for a minute, Jared wonders if he’s even going to answer.

“My parents told Mac it was because my dad lost his job and this was the only place where he could find another one.” The way he says it is weird to Jared, and he shifts his hand to hold up his head to get a better look at Jensen’s profile.

“Your parents said?” he clarifies.

“But it was really because my dad caught me kissing Tom Welling behind the school when he came to pick me up,” Jensen says in a rush.

Jared feels blindsided, and words stick in his throat. After all, he doesn’t know Jensen that well, and...and something about that confession sends butterflies soaring in his stomach. “Oh,” he responds lamely.

Jensen turns over and fixes Jared with a mean glare. “It’s not contagious, you know? Being gay. And no matter what you think, I can’t help it. I’ve kissed girls too. It’s not the same. And you better keep any homophobic bullshit to yourself until we’re not stuck here together shrunk in your family room.”

“Whoa, whoa,” Jared says, holding one hand up placatingly. “I never said I had a problem with it.”

“This is Texas,” Jensen says bitterly. “I’m not retarded.”

“Seriously,” Jared says, getting a little annoyed. “I really don’t care.”

“Sure, say that now,” Jensen says bitterly. “I won’t be surprised if the whole school knows before I even start though.”

“I’m not that kind of person,” Jared says, wounded. “I wouldn’t do that. And maybe you should stop judging other people before you know them. I’m the freak--remember? No one’s going to take my word at school anyway, even if I did want to tell them.”

Jensen looks momentarily contrite, and maybe ashamed, but it doesn’t stop Jared from plowing onwards. “And maybe sometimes I think about it too. About being gay. About not liking girls. So you can take your condescending shit and shove it.”

Jared presents Jensen with his back then, turning over and staring at nothing in particular as his eyes prickle. He thinks that Jensen will apologize or offer an explanation, but nothing comes.

Eventually, he drifts off and dreams of Meggie running for her life.

**

When he wakes up the next morning, he considers leaving Jensen behind before his conscience lets him know he’d never be able to live with himself. Halfheartedly, he pokes Jensen until he’s awarded with a bleary-eyed glare, and then says blandly, “We’ve gotta get going.”

Jensen doesn’t answer, and Jared doesn’t know how he feels about that.

The first couple of hours are spent in silence, but they’re making good time. Jared is still fuming about what Jensen said the night prior, and he’s mad with himself for thinking that Jensen could be a friend. Jensen, for his part, keeps shooting Jared side-long glances that Jared definitely ignores. He doesn’t want another apology that means jack shit.

Things have been so monumentally boring since they woke up, that Jared almost kids himself into thinking that they’ll find Megan and Mackenzie without further incident 

Just for once, Jared wishes things would go his way.

At first he doesn’t really register it for what it is, just hears the quiet _mrao_ and ignores it. But when it comes again, he pauses, holding a hand out to stop Jensen’s progression.

“What was that?” he asks.

“I dunno,” Jensen says automatically, tiredly. “It’s your house.”

The noise comes again, more defined, and Jared feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

“Was that a cat?” Jensen asks.

“Fuck,” Jared says.

“You don’t have a cat, do you?” Jensen persists, and he’s sounding very alert now.

“No,” Jared says. “But Mr. Beaver does. And she likes to sneak in the house when someone leaves the door open.”

“Please tell me you closed the door behind me,” Jensen pleads.

“Judging from the cat sitting right there,” Jared says weakly, “I think I didn’t.”

Mr. Beaver’s tabby is languidly stalking through the sun patches on the ground, blinking widely. Jared wants to think that she won’t see them or smell them, but she’s getting inevitably closer.

“It’s gotta be scared of your dog, right?” Jensen says, taking a wide step backwards.

“She’s the devil,” Jared says. “Sadie won’t come near her.” He follows Jensen in his retreat, and, sensing her prey leaving, the cat bounds forward.

“Run!” Jensen yells, and Jared has a sense of deja vu, as they both take off, running in tandem in the same direction. Jared, unfortunately, gangly-limbed thing that he is, slides on the wood and falls head first as Jensen keeps going. He doesn’t have enough time to get up as the cat’s shadow covers him.

“Jared!” Jensen yells, as the cat lowers its head to stare directly at her quarry. Jared can smell the tuna on her breath, and he thinks he’s about to be eaten--become the first human fancy feast meal, but she bats him first, hard enough that he goes tumbling away from her.

“Over here, dumbass!” Jensen yells, and at first Jared thinks he’s being insulted right before his untimely demise, until Jensen clarifies, “Here, you fucking cat!”

It doesn’t work.

Jared gets batted again, pounced on by the cat and then flung away again by its paws, and this gives a whole new meaning to the word food fight. He can hear the squeak of Jensen’s sneakers on the ground, but the cat is too fast for him as it keeps swatting Jared further away. 

_This is fucking it_ Jared thinks as the cat lowers her head, mouth wide. Nothing is flashing before his eyes except a sheen of tears from the horrible stench of the cat’s breath, and Jared prays that it’s quick.

It is, but not in the sense that he’s thinking.

“Out, out, out!” someone thunders, and it’s not Jensen or Jared, but Jared’s dad, finally home from the office. The cat hisses and swipes her paw, but thankfully her claws miss Jared, who’s still cowering on the floor. His dad, larger than life, comes up and starts shooing the cat away with his hands.

“The kids know not to leave the door open so you can get in,” he mumbles, mostly to himself. “Jared!”

Jared has to cover his ears with his hands as his father’s voice rings through the room, but the cat is leaving, slinking away, and there’s the reprieve that Jared didn’t think was coming.

“Are you okay?” Jensen asks breathlessly, instantly there and kneeling next to Jared with a tentative hand out. “Are you hurt? I’m sorry I was so fucking useless--it was too fast, and--”

“I’m fine,” Jared says, blinking up at him. Jensen looks monumentally upset, pinched as though he’s trying to hide it, and it does a little to soothe Jared’s racing heart. “Just a little banged up. And don’t worry about it, man. Unless you’re some kind of secret track star, I don’t think you could have caught up to me in time.”

“I could have done _something_ ,” Jensen insists. “I just froze. You could’ve died, and I didn’t do _anything_.”

“Stop with the guilt already,” Jared says, gingerly getting to his feet. “Next time something wants to eat us, I’ll let it go after you. It’s only fair, seeing as my house is full of things that think we’d be a good lunch.”

Jensen laughs, a shaky sound, and steadies Jared with his hand as Jared struggles to his feet. The cat has pushed them into view of the back porch now, and something soars sickly in Jared’s stomach. He convinces himself that they’re too far away to be sure, but he can’t see a trace of Megan or Mackenzie anywhere.

“We should keep going,” Jared says. His dad has disappeared elsewhere in the house, still calling Jared’s name, and he hopes that his dad thinks to go to the attic and then is smart enough to notice what happened to his couch, or else they’re all completely fucked.

But, lo and behold, Jared’s dad must decide that his kids have gone somewhere (how he came to that conclusion considering Jared has no car and Meggie has no friends in the city lines, Jared will never know) and the shower comes on, water groaning through the pipes. 

“We’re going to be stuck like this forever,” Jensen says, a little horrified.

“You’re really making me want to get off the ground here,” Jared says dryly. His entire body aches from his repeated encounter with the floor, and he’s still tired from his restless night on the scratchy carpet. The thought that their little adventure could be completely useless is catching up with him, especially since they still haven’t eaten. “You’re lucky I’m not a quitter,” Jared continues, but it feels weak even to his own ears. After all, giving up and waiting for his dad to realize they’re missing is starting to sound like a good plan the more he thinks about it. He slowly picks himself up, though, rotating his shoulders to try and relieve some of the ache that’s settled there.

“C’mon, man,” Jensen groans, bumping his shoulder into Jared’s like they didn’t spend the entire morning not talking, like they weren’t just attacked by a giant devil-cat. “If you talk about stopping, all I’ll want to do is stop, and then we’ll never find Mac and Megan and my mom will absolutely murder me.”

“See, I’m lucky there,” Jared says, and he starts moving, slowly at first, but picking up speed incrementally as his aches begin to fade. “My mom’ll just kill my dad instead.”

“Fuck you,” Jensen says, and Jared doesn’t respond as they move inexorably towards the back porch, closer now than ever before. Jared’s mom may have continuously moaned about her small kitchen, but it’s doing Jared a world of good right now. 

“You’re a hard guy to figure out,” Jared says finally. “You run hot and cold...one minute we’re friends and the next you’re biting my head off.”

Jared sees Jensen wince out of the corner of his eye and he feels a tiny flare of victory. “I’m sorry,” Jensen offers quietly. “I was a dick.”

“Yeah, you were,” Jared says. “It’s kind of been a habit since we met.”

“I’ve always been an asshole. That’s why all of my friends are jerks too. We run together.” Jensen sounds self-deprecating and so depressed for a second, and Jared can’t help but feel a little sorry for him.

“The guy I first met wasn’t an asshole,” Jared says. “Maybe you’re growing out of it.”

“I doubt it,” Jensen says. “But if it means anything, I really do like you.” When Jared sharply turns his head at that statement, Jensen goes bright pink. “As a friend. In a completely straight way. Jesus. I’m sorry I keep fucking it up.”

“So stop,” Jared says blandly. “Fucking it up, I mean.”

“You gotta give me a little break, though,” Jensen says. 

“If this is about how we’re shrunk, _again_ , tough shit,” Jared says. “I already gave you your break there. Time for a new excuse.”

Jensen sighs deeply and slants Jared a look but Jared knows that Jensen isn’t as serious as he’s playing at. “Well, I did almost get eaten by a rat, I lost my sister, we’ve been hiking across the carpet like Sam and Frodo on their way to Mordor, and I almost saw you get murdered by a giant cat. Take your pick.”

That startles a laugh out of Jared, loud enough that Jensen starts laughing a little too. “The cat was after you were an asshole. Try again.”

“The rat, then. Definitely the rat. That thing was fucking disgusting.”

“Stop making me like you,” Jared says, smiling. “I’m not supposed to, remember? You’re the asshole.”

“Guess I’m full of surprises.”

**

It takes twenty minutes after the water stops sounding through the walls before they hear Jared’s dad’s panicked yell. Awful though it sounds, it’s almost the best thing Jared’s heard in a long time, especially when he thunders downstairs and starts tearing through his tool kit, unearthing a large magnifying class before he charges upstairs again.

“Looks like your dad found out why you’re not around,” Jensen says dryly, and he shares a small smile with Jared. The sun is shining through the wide bay windows, and he’s stripped off his outer shirt and tied it around his waist, comfortable in only his muscle undershirt. Jared appreciates the view as secretly as he can and doesn’t follow Jensen’s lead, because there’s no way he’s revealing his scrawny arms after this show of immodesty.

 _You’re not supposed to like him_ , Jared reminds himself, but fat load of good it does him. Jensen has made up for his earlier asshole act by being more chatty than he was the day prior, with little injections of sarcastic humor that have Jared unwillingly snorting with laughter.

“Now we just have to make sure he doesn’t squash us in his attempts at saving us,” Jared says, a little too late, earning a weird look from Jensen. “Although, he wouldn’t. I hope.”

“Stop talking,” Jensen says. “You’re gonna make me ralph. I’m freaking out enough as it is.”

He puts into words just what Jared’s been thinking secretly, because they’re fast coming up on the back porch, and Jared sees no sign of their sisters, even though Sadie’s idly lazing in a patch of sun. They’ve made good time, between the early start and the cat throwing Jared halfway across the kitchen, so with the sounds of Jared’s dad bumbling around upstairs, they approach their destination without further word.

By the time they’re at the door, Jared feels sick to his stomach with worry. He’d been so sure they’d be here, and now that they’re not, he’s afraid to even look at Jensen. Jensen, for his part, stands behind Jared and then immediately starts calling for his sister, more proactive than Jared can be in this moment.

Jared’s not expecting an answer, not after all that walking and the cat and everything, not after there’s no one there, so when one comes, he nearly falls over in surprise.

“It took you long enough,” Mackenzie says, creeping out from behind the potted plant. 

“To be fair,” Megan says, behind her, “they did have to cover quite a lot of ground to get to us, if they fell off Sadie in the family room like I think they did.”

“Meggie,” Jared says weakly, wholly relieved. “You’re alive.”

“I’m not stupid enough to die in my own house,” Megan points out. 

“Your brother nearly did,” Jensen says, flinging his arm around a struggling Mackenzie and giving her a noogie, looking happier than he has since the whole adventure began.

“Of course,” Megan says, but she grabs Jared’s hand as though to make sure he’s still breathing. “It’s always prudent to expect Jared to get into more trouble than is completely normal.”

“Hey!” Jared says, still too happy to have found her to be annoyed by the quip.

“Megan was great,” Mackenzie gushes, finally out of Jensen’s grasp. “She knew just what to do! Especially when that scorpion came around.”

“Scorpion?” Jensen asks, and he looks so aghast that Jared feels bad for him.

“It was simple science,” Megan says loftily. “And a bit of common sense. And I never could have guessed that you liked my plan from how much you complained about it.”

“I was just joking,” Mackenzie says, but her face goes pink as she ducks behind Jensen.

“But if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have though to stay behind the plant for shade,” Megan says shyly. “And we never would have found those cookie crumbs.”

“Wait--you found food?” Jared demands as his stomach gives a hearty rumble. “And who are you and what have you done with my sister? The Megan I know never would have admitted someone else helped her with something.”

“Well, it’s true,” Megan says, scuffing her foot, “that the practical side was my doing. But sometimes creativity can be good too?” She says it like a question, but Mackenzie is beaming.

“As heartwarming as this is,” Jensen says, interrupting them, “and even though I’m just as shocked as you are, Jared, that they didn’t kill each other, we still have a problem.”

“I was trying not to think about it. Thanks,” Jared says, scowling at nothing in particular.

“Not thinking about it doesn’t change the fact that your dad has to find us before we can be fixed.”

“Easily remedied,” Megan says, and both Jared and Jensen turn to look at her, slightly aghast. She merely points up and up to where the portable telephone is sitting on top of a wicker end-table.

“Megan and I aren’t strong enough to get to the top,” Mackenzie says, and yeah, Jared can see that. His sister is whippet-thin, the definition of a nerd, and Mackenzie looks like one of those girls who doesn’t participate in gym because she’s be worried about being gross and sweaty.

“I can climb that,” Jensen says confidently.

“You’ll need two people to press the buttons,” Megan says. “Just in case.”

Jensen looks at Jared expectantly, and Jared just grimaces slightly. “I can try?”

“I know you can do it. We’re not staying stuck like this forever. Dude, you survived being attacked by a giant cat. This is small shit compared to that.”

“You’re only saying that ‘cause I’m your last hope and you’re hungry,” Jared says petulantly.

“Is it working?” asks Jensen hopefully.

“He’ll do it,” Megan says earnestly. “He wants to impress you. I know it.”

“Megan,” Jared hisses, scandalized, as humiliation washes over him.

“It’s true!” she defends. “He stares at you through the window all the time!”

“Megan, I will strangle you. I swear to Jesus.”

“So impress me,” Jensen goads, but his mouth is crinkling up into a smile that makes Jared feel incrementally less stupid.

“Let’s just get this over with,” Jared sighs, gulping as he looks up at the height they need to cover before they reach the phone. It’s like rock climbing with no ropes, and he’s pretty certain they’re not going to get up there without one of them breaking their arms. Or worse. But if they stay on the ground much longer, who knows what Megan will say.

The climb starts out smoothly enough--they stay on the same table-leg as each other, careful to keep enough space that there are sufficient hand holds, but close enough that they can grab each other if need be.

The first ten minutes are like climbing a really slippery ladder. Jared’s breath is coming fast, both from the adrenaline and the exertion, and although Jensen seems to be faring a little better, he’s breathing hard too. They keep having to stop to rest their arms, mostly at Jared’s cue, and then, when they’re three quarters of the way up, high enough that they’re risking serious injury if one of them should fall, the inevitable happens.

Jared’s foot slips, and he finds himself dangling, his feet scrabbling at the wicker.

“Jensen,” he yells, half wildly. Distantly, he can hear his sister shouting from the ground but all he can really concentrate on is how his feet aren’t finding purchase as his arms begin to burn.

“Hang on, Jared!” Jensen says urgently, scrambling down a couple of steps so he’s within reach. “Stop panicking.”

“Stop giving me useless advice!” Jared shoots back. He’s gonna die. He knows he is.

Jensen hand on his arm is a shock, and then Jensen, somehow wrapped around two intertwined pieces of wood, catches Jared’s foot with his own. He grunts from the exertion, and Jared thinks that Jensen’s going to slip for a second, but then he’s using his own leg to guide Jared’s back to a solid foot hold.

By the end of it, they’re both gasping for breath. “You - are - such - a - drama - queen,” Jensen gasps.

“Sorry,” Jared apologizes, still trying to calm his racing heart.

“Let’s just get to the top before someone falls off,” Jensen says, but he doesn’t sound angry--just scared, so Jared doesn’t take offense. It’s a couple of minutes before Jared feels secure enough to keep going, but after the excitement of his near fatal accident, the last leg of the journey is uneventful, and he scrambles onto the top of the table with Jensen’s help.

“Let’s just call your dad and get this over with,” Jensen says. “He does have a cell phone, right?”

“Never goes anywhere without it,” Jared confirms. Thankfully, Jared’s mom bought a sleek phone that lay flat in it’s holder, not upright like the kitchen phone, so they can actually use it to call. Together, him and Jensen hit the speaker button, and then, quick as they can so they don’t take too long dialing, they put in Jared’s dad’s number.

It rings four times before switching over to voicemail, but Jared can hear the jangle of his dad’s ringtone upstairs.

 

“Redial,” Jensen says grimly, after they hang up, and they press the button, listening to the sounds of the phone dialing the number again.

This time Jared’s father picks up. “Hello?” he asks. “Who’s there? Megan? Jared?”

Jared looks at Jensen and then starts yelling as close he can to the receiver. “Downstairs! Back! Porch! Help! Shrunk!” It’s like a mantra he keeps repeating. 

“Jared?” Jared’s dad asks again. “Is that you? I don’t hear anything.” Jared’s throat is beginning to hurt from the yelling, and for a second, he’s terrified that his dad will think it’s a hoax. 

“Jared, if you’re there, and if you and your sister aren’t playing a terrible joke on me, stay where you are. I’ll find you.” He hangs up with a click, but Jared can hear him racing around upstairs, probably checking every portable phone with his magnifying glass.

“We’re saved!” he crows, throwing his arms around Jensen, who is jumping up and down, equally excited.

“We fucking made it!” Jensen yells, and Jared pulls back laughing widely. He catches a glimpse of Jensen’s face, as wide open and happy as Jared’s ever seen it, and then it’s much too close.

When Jensen kisses him, it’s a shock in more than one way. It wasn’t something he ever could have expected--being kissed by someone he wasn’t entirely sure he’d liked a couple of hours prior. And not only that, but it’s his first kiss, and all the hype he’s heard about in movies has to be true if first kisses feel like this. Jensen’s lips are dry, catching, parting so the moist heat of his tongue just barely touches Jared’s, and it makes him shiver, his lips tingling with the contact.

He wants to know what’s going on. He needs to talk to Jensen and figure out if this is all some sort of sick joke or if Jensen is kissing him because he wants to be. 

He also never wants it to end.

Jensen pulls back as quickly as he’d approached, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry,” he says quickly. “Heat of the moment.”

“Don’t be,” Jared says, and he’s dizzy with wanting it again, so he does the only thing he can think of. Using both hands, he draws Jensen’s face towards him again, pressing their lips together inexpertly. Their teeth click, but Jensen just grabs Jared’s wrists and tilts his head a little, letting his mouth fall open under Jared’s. It’s soft and new and just as good as Jared thought he’d been imagining.

They don’t stop until Jared’s dad thunders by the back porch, and by the time they’re found, hand in hand, still on the face of the wicker table, Jared is quite certain that’s he’s just had the best day of his life.

**

Three Years Later

Jared’s lazing in bed, Jensen’s head pillowed on his shoulder, warm and relaxed and thanking God that it’s Saturday when his phone rings, loud in the silence.

“Make it stop, Jared,” Jensen groans, burrowing further into Jared’s skin as though that will somehow make things quiet again.

Jared can’t help but drop a kiss on his boyfriend’s back as he contorts himself to grab his cell from the nightstand and flip it open. 

“Hello?”

Immediately he wishes he’d left his phone outside. 

“You’ve got to be joking,” he says, and then he’s tumbling out of bed, disrupting Jensen, who squawks as he very nearly falls out himself.

“Jesus, Dad. Yes, yes, I get it. We’ll be right there.” Jared slams his phone shut and starts scrounging on the floor for last night’s underwear.

“What is going on?” asks Jensen grumpily. “Is something wrong?”

“Maddie,” Jared says grimly, thinking of his two-year old sister--his parents’ big accident that had been born right as Jared turned seventeen.

“Is she okay?” Jensen sounds immediately alert, sitting up in bed, and if it wasn’t for the family emergency, Jared would be hard-pressed to leave the room after seeing Jensen like that, bleary-eyed and messy hair and pillow creases on his face.

“It’s my dad’s fucking shrink ray,” Jared snarls, stumbling into his pants.

“Please tell me he did not,” Jensen says flatly, struggling out of bed himself.

“Worse.”

“How could it be worse, Jared?”

“He didn’t shrink her. He blew her up. And not in the exploding sense. In the sense that my baby sister is twenty feet tall and running through southern Texas.”

“Fuck,” says Jensen. “Can’t we ever have a nice, normal weekend?”

“Not while you’re my boyfriend,” Jared says. “Not a chance in hell.”

“Well let’s go then,” Jensen says. “We have a giant mutant Godzilla baby to rescue.” He pulls on his clothes so quickly that Jared’s surprised nothing rips.

“Goddamn, I love you,” Jared says. “You’re the only boyfriend who’d be able to say that with a straight face.”

“Fuckin’ A, you do. Now let’s go before something else happens.”

“After you, baby,” Jared says, and then they’re out the door together, ready to face another shrink ray dilemma just as they dealt with the first one: together.

END


End file.
